Flame Colored Paradise
by Gray Doll
Summary: A series of drabbles and oneshots exploring the many facets of the extremely AU relationship of our beloved Senior Agent and our not so beloved serial killer (who, in this story, isn't canon). For LetMeWalkTheEarthWithYou.
1. Chapter 1

_...because I simply couldn't resist._

_Most likely there will be about 20 drabbles._

_This is for LetMeWalkTheEarthWithYou, who was worried I had abandoned Red John and weird stuff. Well... I haven't!_

* * *

**_I don't really wanna know what's good for me_**

"I have to be back at the CBI in less than half an hour." Lisbon's voice was hesitant, and a little slurred from the lip-lock she'd just gotten out of, but her pace didn't slow. She could feel his nails through her t-shirt, which he currently had a fistful of as he yanked her towards the motel room.

He whipped around, dragged her forward and pulled her into yet another bruising kiss, and she could feel him smirking against her lips. When he pulled back, Lisbon knew she must have looked like a slack-jawed idiot, and waited for his rebuttal.

But all she got was, "Angry sex only works when we're angry, Teresa," he cooed. "If we have it when we're _not_ angry, then we'll be in danger of ending up lovers. Of course you wouldn't want that, now would you?"

Lisbon shivered, and for a moment forgot where they were, who he was and how much she hated him – and only just barely managed to stop herself from saying "I don't give a damn".

* * *

**_I'm just a holy fool, baby he's so cruel_**

"What do you want from me?"

He tilted his head to the side, as though it were obvious. It most certainly wasn't the first time he'd come to Teresa's room – or wherever it was that she happened to be sleeping on a given night – and given her _that_ look.

"I thought it was clear as day."

She stared at him. "You think," she started slowly, dangerously, eyes darkening in that way that had always been so very attractive despite the fury they implied, "that I want to hop into bed with you? I don't even want to _see_ you right now. Get out!"

He frowned a little. "Why?"

"Because you're a walking, talking, uppity, wicked _disaster_ and I don't give a shit if you're _God_ now get your ass _out _or I swear I'll shoot you!"

She was huffing and puffing and glaring so hard at him with such a cold, ugly look that he took a step back. And even through the shield of coldness and nonchalance beneath his skin, he felt her words penetrate and sting and _hurt._

She shut the door in his face, and he turned and left without another word.

* * *

**_your heart isn't bulletproof_**

"So if I show myself, are you going to shoot me again?"

She puffed up like an angry bird. If she had feathers, they would have been ruffled.

"_Get out_."

He slowly walked out from behind the tree, hands in his pockets. "What did I do?"

"You know what you did."

"Faking my death?"

She glared at him with the sort of eyes people usually saw right before they died a slow and painful death at the hands of a furious demon in movies.

"You're still angry about the bomb thing?"

"You lied to me."

"I lie to a lot of people."

"You lied to _me_."

He sighed. "It was for your own safety."

"_You could have told me_."

He shook his head and went to put an arm around her shoulders, but she pushed him away with such force he staggered a little. "Don't you think you're blowing it out of proportion?"

She turned around and stomped off to her car. "Don't you _dare_ talk to me again for at least a month," she called out over her shoulder.

* * *

**_my old man is a tough man, but he's got a soul as sweet as blood red jam_**

"It was always you, Teresa. It always had to be you."

Lisbon was being stalked by the goddamn devil. Everywhere she went, the bastard was sure to follow.

Every case, every dinner, every motel, every shopping spree. He was tailing her like a puppy – a twisted, wicked puppy – and making sure Lisbon knew he was constantly nearby.

"If you want me to leave, why not simply ask me?" he said innocently.

"Would you actually disappear if I did it?"

He thought about it for a moment. "No. I enjoy being around you far too much."

"_Why_?" Lisbon hissed, although she thought she already knew the answer. She was surprised, however, when he reached out to cup her face and said,

"Because with you, I almost feel like an innocent lovesick man again. And it's... quite interesting, this feeling."

* * *

**_and I want you to bite me, 'cause I know I'm gonna like it_**

"My, my, love."

He twirled the knife in his hand with practiced ease. "Honestly, I was rather hoping you might tell me a bit about your boyfriend's latest crazy plan to catch me, but this isn't so bad either."

She gave a breathy chuckle, looking up at him with eyes that shone bright emerald in the dim lamplight. "You don't know much about torture after all, big bad wolf," she said, her voice slightly strained. It was obvious that she was in pain; but her desire to mock him outshone her fear. "This is date night stuff for me."

"Oh?" He drew the tip of the blade along the inner side of her thigh, smirking when her breath caught in her throat. "You do strike me as the type of woman who gets a lot of dates. Do tell me, do all of them end with you tied up and bleeding?"

She gave a crooked half-smile. "The best ones always do."

* * *

**_and he took me to the river where he slowly let me drown_**

He thought this was a game.

He thought that taking lives as though he were God and had the divine right to do so and then laughing when he spread mayhem and destruction and misery was sport, a good laugh to be had at everyone's expense but his.

She hunted him, and one night she caught him. He had smiled, and sauntered up to her as if she were the one being held at gunpoint, and he had brushed his fingertips along her chin. He must have done something to her, because she lowered her weapon and found she couldn't kill him.

Her greatest moment of shame, though, was when he pulled her into a kiss, and she did nothing to stop what came after that.

* * *

**_I'd sell my soul to be back in her bosom_**

"I've been driving for ten days to come here, to you. Teresa, please, look at me."

She lifted her eyes to his, glistening red-rimmed emerald. Her cheeks were wet, her hair disheveled. "Get away from me."

He sat down next to her, tried to gather her in his arms; she sprang to her feet and glared down at him. When she spoke again, her voice was near-hysterical.

"I've done _everything_," she cried. "Everything, to get away from you. And you're still coming after me." She ran her hands through her wild hair and shut her eyes. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

"Why can't you just stay with me?" he countered, standing up as well. There was something in his voice that hadn't been there before, and she noticed; the faintest hints of desperation; pleading. "Why do you want to leave me?"

"Because you're a sick, demented _monster_," she sobbed, backing away several steps from him. "Please, just leave me alone. _Please_."

He stood there, watching as she ran back inside the motel, and for several long seconds he was unable to move an inch. But then he went after her, ignoring the motel clerk's widening eyes as he shoved the porter aside and caught up with her in the middle of the breakfast room; he pulled her against him, buried his face in her hair.

"I'm never going to leave you. _Never_."


	2. Chapter 2

**_another night I'm waiting, waiting for the sun_**

A frown creased her forehead when she picked up the wine bottle and found it was empty. She shook it a little, as though to make sure there wasn't any more liquid left inside at all, and cast it aside without caring whether it would land safely or not.

With a sigh she climbed off the couch and crawled across the carpet to the fireplace; the dancing flames had been reduced to weakly glowing embers. As she watched them, her vision blurry from the wine she'd consumed and the lack of sleep, she thought they looked as if they were laughing up at her.

It was yet another night, and he hadn't showed up.

Chuckling to herself, she managed to push herself to her feet. She left the house without her coat or her purse – she just grabbed a few dollars and was off to the nearest bar.

At the first crack of dawn she was back with another man. She couldn't make out his features, and she didn't even care. She cried while he fucked her, and left him snoring on her bed when they were done, went downstairs to sleep on her couch instead.

When she woke up several hours later, she found the man's dead body under a bloody smiley face in her bedroom.

* * *

**_there is something about watching a crime_**

"You killed her," she choked out, brushing her hair, blown by the wind, away from her face with a trembling hand. "_You killed her_."

He shook his head and stepped away from the body lying in a pool of crimson at his feet. "This woman was about to shoot you, Teresa."

She slid down the murky wall until she fell to the concrete pavement, her breathing ragged.

He was about to roll his eyes, but managed to stop himself. "Honestly, love, there's no need to be so melodramatic about it. She's not the first person I've killed. And I did it to _save your life_."

She brought her hand to her neck, absentmindedly touching the silver crucifix that lay there. She tried to avert her gaze from the blade in his hand, glistening with blood, but she couldn't look anywhere else.

He took a few steps closer to her, and she visibly shrank, her back pressing hard against the wall. "Stay away from me."

He blinked, as though he was astonished. Then his gaze followed hers, came to rest on the knife still in his steady grip. He turned his eyes back to her.

"Teresa, please, don't look at me like that," he said, his voice low. He quickly shoved the blade inside his pocket. "You know I'd never hurt you."

She fixed him with the iciest glare she could muster, yet she still couldn't control the trembling of her hands. "I said get _away_ from me."

* * *

**_I'll do what you tell me, we can have it your way_ **

She couldn't help but smirk as she sat down on the bed next to him, and watched his face set with concentration as he tried to discern the sounds around him.

He waited a few beats, then turned his face to her.

"Did you just open a jar?"

She nodded, even though he couldn't see her. "Yes, my dear. You look a bit nervous – why is that?"

He shrugged a little. "I'm not nervous, I'm simply wondering. What on earth are you going to do to me with a _jar_?"

She imagined he must be frowning – it was hard to tell with the blindfold she'd made him wear, but if his body language was anything to go by, he was confused.

"You should be less worried about the jar and more about what's inside it," she said airily.

"Please do not tell me you've brought any kind of insect or rodent along for tonight."

She laughed. "Why? Are you afraid of mice?"

He shuddered visibly, though she suspected it was only for her amusement. "Of course I'm not – I just don't like the idea of a rat walking up and down my naked body and not being able to even _see_ it."

He sat up a little, but she placed her palm flat against his chest and pushed him back down on the mattress. "Ah ah ah," she cooed. "You said you were going to be compliant."

"I _am_ being compliant," he said. "But if I feel tiny feet on my chest, or _anywhere_ else, I'll-"

"Hush," she said, dipping a spoon into the jar's content.

A few moments later, his head shot up and she had no doubt his eyes were wide open beneath the black cloth that was covering them.

"What _is_ that?"

She smiled. "Honey. I thought you'd like it. Now... sit back, and let me enjoy this."

* * *

**_carry me into the water, now we're drowning_ **

"Do you love me?"

Lisbon set her book down and looked at him, arching her eyebrows slightly. This was the last question she ever would have expected from him.

"Are you feeling alright?" she asked hesitantly, fairly sure he was joking.

He rolled his eyes, but it seemed forced. "My dear, I asked you if you love me." He paused, tilting his head to the side. "Well, do you?"

She stared at him, dazed, blinking her green eyes. Then, she laughed. "I'm sorry," she managed between laughs, "but you can't be serious. Just tell me what you really want to tell me, okay?"

He slowly stood from the armchair, his eyes always on her. His expression was calm. "So no, then," he said evenly, and she stopped laughing as soon as he left the living room.

* * *

**_I love you anyway, no matter what they say_**

Lisbon smiled as her neighbor, Mrs Garcia, gladly accepted the steaming cup of coffee and took her seat on the couch beside her.

"My sweet Teresa," she said, carefully sipping the coffee. "I'm so glad to see you smiling – I was beginning to worry that this relationship of yours wasn't going very well... that it was too much for you."

Lisbon stilled. "What relationship?"

No one knew about her affair – she'd made sure of that. But now-

"Oh my dear, I understand if you want to keep it hidden," the older woman said conspiratorially, setting her cup on the coffee table. "But, as your friend, I... I feel like I should tell you that if a girl is ashamed of her fellow, then-"

"Mrs Garcia, there is no _fellow_," Lisbon cut in, a little sharper than intended.

The woman nodded her head full of gray curls. "Of course, of course." She waited for a while. "Teresa, dear, I just want you to know, that if you need someone to talk to, I'm-"

"Mrs Garcia, I'm terribly sorry, but I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about," she said coolly. "I'm fairly sure that if I was dating someone, I'd know it."

Mrs Garcia held Lisbon's gaze, but the latter saw it when her eyes almost imperceptibly flickered to Lisbon's wrist.

Lisbon's own eyes widened when she caught sight of the fading bruise marring her pale skin. She had no idea it was still there – but apparently her neighbor did. She opened her mouth to defend herself, to say there had been a work-related accident, but the finger-like shape of the bruise was obvious.

"Teresa," Mrs Garcia started again, this time her voice softer, "you don't have to stay with-"

"I'm afraid my personal life doesn't concern you," Lisbon said, finding she didn't care she was probably ruining one of the few acquaintances she had outside her job.

The older woman gave her a sad smile. "Do you love him, Teresa?"

She didn't know what to answer to that.


	3. Chapter 3

**_pretty baby, if you don't like the way that I hold you_**

"What's wrong?"

She opened her eyes and looked up to see him frowning, his face hovering a few inches above her waist.

"Nothing's wrong," she said, propping herself up on her elbows. "Why did you stop?"

He gave a sigh and sat up. "What are you thinking?"

"Excuse me?"

"Right now," he said, leaning forward. "What are you thinking? Clearly not me and what I'm doing to you."

She shook her head and sat up as well, shifting close to him. "What makes you say that?"

"You might think I'm stupid, Teresa, but you'll be surprised to find out that I'm not."

He put a finger under her chin and lifted her face so that their gazes locked; his eyes were boring into hers, and she found herself squirming slightly under his scrutiny.

"Will you tell me what's wrong?" she asked, trying her best to sound indignant.

He gave a small shrug and pulled away. "Darling, if you don't like the way I touch you, I will touch you no more."

"What?" Her eyes widened, and she could only sit there on the bed and stare as he stood up and started dressing. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong with me," he said, pulling his shirt over his head. "But if you don't want me any longer, because your precious Patrick has finally deigned to look at you, at least let me know."

Her jaw nearly dropped to the floor. "What are you-"

She never finished her question; once he was dressed he closed the distance between them and grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her head back until the lamplight nearly blinded her. Her hand went up and grabbed his wrist.

"What the hell-"

"Aren't you going to miss me, though?" he asked, and without thinking she scratched his arm and tried to push him away.

"You're out of your mind-"

He let go of her so suddenly she almost toppled over. He shook his head as he made for the door. "I know _I_'ll miss you."

* * *

**_it's fine if you're hateful, as long as all in all you remain grateful_ **

"You have absolutely no right to be angry," Lisbon snapped. "I _saved_ you."

He whipped around and fixed her with a furious glare. "Saved me? You were simply terrified that you were going to be discovered!"

"Is it so absurd that I was scared, then?" she asked, her voice rising. "In case you've forgotten, you're a wanted _serial killer._ If it weren't for me the FBI men would have taken you out in less than a second!"

He huffed. "You forget that they have no idea _who_ I am. You're simply being paranoid – you see shadows everywhere, you think someone, somehow, is going to discover us-"

"And whose fault is that?" she shouted. "Whose fault is it that I can't sleep at night? That I constantly think someone's watching me? That my whole life is ruined?"

He visibly winced at her words, and she went silent. She had never seen him like this before.

"Is this how you feel, then? That you've ruined your life with me?"

She turned her gaze skywards, taking a deep breath. "It's not exactly a fairytale," she said sharply, folding her arms tightly about her chest. "This... relationship... it isn't normal. And don't even try and pretend that it is."

* * *

**_baby, if you love me, take me to the gas station_**

Lisbon's eyes widened when the car door opened and he got in, sitting heavily on the driver's seat with innumerable carts and paper bags in his hands.

"What _are_ all these things?"

He give her a sideways glance. "Didn't I tell you that I was going o get us food for the road?"

She chuckled. "Are you trying to make me fat so that no other man will like me?"

"Actually, I enjoy it when other men ogle you," he said, smirking. "Because I sit back and think of how all of them want you and none of them can have you, because you're mine."

She snatched a bag of chips from his grasp, and laughed. "Easy there, darling, I'm no-one's."

"You're _with_ me," he said pointedly, smiling slightly at the sight of her filling her mouth with chips. "And you'll stay with me," he added, making sure to sound playful.

"Of course," she said, and leaned forward to give him a soft peck on the lips. "If I want."


	4. Chapter 4

**_but something's pulling me away from you_**

Sometimes she felt like their relationship was soaked in blood.

The blood on his victims that she would see pooling on the floor whenever he decided to kill permeated her life, staining almost everything she touched red. The blood that trickled down her fingers whenever she dug them into his flesh hard enough to break the skin. The blood on his hands that he smeared across her cheek when he caressed her.

Through the red abyss she could see a faint blue, shining like a beacon and charming her like a siren.

It was both terrifying and liberating, this fading little blue. She wanted to embrace it, but the red swallowing it was simply too much.

* * *

**_we're dancing in this black and white movie_**

"Courting?" Lisbon snorted the word with as much dismissal as humanly possible. "Is that what you're calling this?"

"There was a time when chivalry was prominent, my darling."

She scoffed. "Well, yeah, but that was lords and ladies. We're cop and psycho killer, no offense, _my_ _darling_, and this-" she gestured to the rumpled sheets around them with arched eyebrows, "this is a step or two beyond traditional courting."

He shrugged. "I thought you would appreciate the expediency."

"Oh, I do. I'm the dating kind of woman."

"Mm, I know, you couldn't make an exception even for me."

"Oh, you know me so well," she said, rolling her eyes exasperatedly.

"And _that_ is the point of courting," he pressed, smirking. "Getting to know you, winning your affections."

"And making it clear that if I don't accept your attempts you will kill me and leave my body for the rats?"

He pouted. "I never said that."

She gave a facetious grin. "Ah, but _darling_, I know you too well by now too."

"That you do," he smiled, and leaned closer to her. "So now, what do you say? Shall I begin courting you?"

She sighed. "Please do."

* * *

**_let me put on a show for you, tiger_**

"Well? Aren't you going to say anything?"

"You look... good."

Lisbon planted her hands firmly on her hips and scowled. "I haven't dressed up for Halloween since I was _ten_, and _all_ you have to say is that I look good?"

He sat down on the bed with a thump, his eyes roaming over her body. "You'll have to forgive me, Teresa, but words are failing me right now."

She huffed. "I don't even know why I bothered in the first place," she said, reaching behind her back to the laces of her blood-red corset. "And this thing is _awfully_ tight. I-"

"No, no, no, no!" He raised a hand and she stilled, cocking an eyebrow. "Don't take it off, please. Seriously, you look... fantastic." He smirked. "And I want to be the one to help you out of it when the time comes."

She straightened, and folded her arms loosely about her chest. "Well, the time had better come quickly then, because this shit is killing me."

His eyes widened comically. "I'm sure Red Riding Hood didn't even know of the existence of such abominable words."

"And I'm sure the Big Bad Wolf only wanted to eat her, not fuck her."

He smirked. "And _I_'m sure Red Riding Hood didn't run around in the forest only in her corset and stockings. If she did, the wolf would have certainly-"

"And _I'_m sure the wolf didn't talk so much," she said, and walked over to him. "Now. _Will_ you help me out of this or what? It really _is_ killing me."

* * *

**_I'm in love with a dying man, all our love's flying in the sand_**

She sat on the windowsill, staring out at the empty road, cradling a cup of steaming coffee that she hadn't even tasted yet.

"Aren't you going to go to bed? I thought you had work tomorrow," he said from across the living room, and she turned to see him perching in his favorite armchair, a book (probably a crime novel) open on his lap.

"I'm not tired," she said flatly, turning her gaze back outside.

She heard him close his book and draw a deep breath. "Teresa, will you tell me what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I was just... thinking."

"Thinking about what?"

She leaned her forehead against the cool glass, and sighed. "About what would happen. If we were found out."

"Of, for the love of-" He stood up and closed the distance between them, coming to stand right beside her. "Teresa, why on earth are you bothering yourself with such nonsense? You know we won't-"

"_Nonsense_?" She turned around and looked up at him, eyes blazing. "It's a wonder no one has discovered us yet. And you know, _you know_ that one day, someone will find out about us. It's just inevitable. And whatever's going to happen then-"

He crouched down beside her and took her face in his hands, his eyes boring into hers. "Don't be scared, Teresa. If you think I'll let anyone hurt you-"

"I'm not scared," she snapped, swatting his hands away. "I'm unsure. About this... relationship, about you, about _myself_. And I... I don't know if I can keep doing this for much longer."

* * *

** _you're alright letting nice things go, you're better still leaving me behind_ **

She stared down at the wine bottle, trying to make up her mind.

The small can of pills trembled ever so slightly as her hand shook. She had a choice; a choice that shouldn't be so hard to make.

"Teresa?" she heard him call from the bedroom. "What's taking so long?"

She drew a deep breath, steadied herself. "I'm just trying to find the right glasses!" she cried, wincing at the sound of her voice cracking. She hoped against hope that he wouldn't notice, and was beyong relieved when he replied with a mere,

"They're on the top left cabinet!"

Swallowing down a lump in her throat, she poured a couple of pills on her open palm and grabbed the bottle; then slowly, one by one, she dropped them inside, watching with a mixture of horror and fascination as they disappeared under the crimson surface.

She shut her eyes, and shook the bottle. When she opened them again, there was no foam left; she returned to the bedroom, with the bottle in one hand, two crystal glasses in the other, and a large grin on her face.


End file.
